Always
by rockythehufflepuff
Summary: "Draco Malfoy could see Hermione Granger pursuing the books. The Weasel was standing beside her, his arm laying carelessly across her shoulders as they watched their daughter happily pulling the books from the shelves. To an outsider, they looked like a perfectly happy family. But there are two sides to every story and his happened to be the correct one."
1. Part 1: The Beginning

Draco Malfoy could see Hermione Granger pursuing the books in Flourish and Blotts. Or, rather, he could see Hermione Granger-Weasley. The Weasel was standing beside her, his arm laying carelessly across her shoulders, as they watched their five-year-old daughter happily pulling books from the shelves. "I want this one." Rose Weasley would murmur joyfully every few minutes Granger–_Granger-Weasley_, he had to remind himself–would scold the child fondly, reminding her to say "please."

"We said you could pick out two," Weasley reiterated. Rose frowned, thinking hard over the books she wanted. She put two of the smaller books back, choosing the chapter books instead. Draco shook his head in disbelief. Only Granger's daughter would be reading chapter book at the ripe age of five years.

Scorpius found Draco then. A pile of books were in his hands. Scorp liked to pretend he could read large books, wanting Draco to see him as a smart child and be proud of him for it. But Draco knew he would be reading these books to his son. (Scorp claiming he was too tired to read, of course.)

Draco smiled fondly at his son, reaching for the books he had in his small arms. "What did you find, Scorpius? _Quidditch Through the Ages_," Draco smiled at that. His son was nearly obsessed with the game. For his birthday, Draco had bought him a child's broom. Astoria had scolded him for it, claiming Scorpius was too young. But Draco never allowed Scorp to go very high and he was always there in case something should happen. "_Tales of Beedle the Bard_. You can put this back. We've got it at home. Remember? I've read it to you. And–" He stopped when he saw the title of the last book. He was sure this was some sort of cosmic joke. "_Harry Potter, a Biography_." Scorpius was looking at him with excitement. "Are you sure you want this?"

Scorp nodded vehemently. "Please? Everyone says that Harry Potter was a hero!"

He sighed and nodded. He handed the copy of the fairy tales back to Scorpius to put back where he had found it. Meanwhile, he made his way over to the back of the store to pay for the books.

Much to his chagrin, he reached the register at the same time as the Weasel. He groaned inwardly and tired to cover the Harry Potter biography. "Malfoy," Weasley stated.

"Weasley," he returned. Weasel gestured for him to go first to the register. Draco placed the books on the counter while he ruffled through his pocket for the correct amount of galleons. As the store keeper was placing the books in a bag for Draco, he heard a chuckle from behind him. Draco winced, knowing Weasley had seen the book.

"_Harry Potter, a Biography_, Malfoy?" Weasel mocked.

"Just wanted to make sure they got my character right," he returned stiffly.

"You know, if you get the special edition one, you can hear Harry reading parts of it." Draco glared at Weasley.

"It's for my son," he stated clearly. "Not for me." Weasley didn't believe him, Draco could see that. Just then, Granger appeared with Rose and a small blonde haired boy. Scorpius' face lit up when he saw his father. The child was still holding the copy of Beedle the Bard.

Draco bent down so that he was eye level with his son. "I thought you were going to put that book back?" Scorp blinked in confusion before looking down at his hands.

"Oh, sorry, Father," he replied. "I forgot." Scorp looked back at Rose and Granger. Even if his son was only five-years-old, Draco understood. Rose was the reason he forgot. Granger women always seemed to have that effect on people.

"Granger," Draco greeted. _Granger-Weasley_.

"Malfoy," she returned.

"'Mione!" The Weasel called to her, returning to her while the purchases. "You'll never guess what book Malfoy just bought!"

Before he had to listen to Weasley mock him again, Draco said to his son, "Come on, Scorp, we'll put the book back together."

As Granger left with her family, Draco watched them. To an outsider, they looked like a perfectly happy family. But there are two sides to every story. And his happened to be the correct one.


	2. Part 2: The Truth

The first time Draco met Hermione Granger, she made little impact on his memory. There weren't any sirens or fireworks telling him he had met the woman of his dreams. Nothing, but a know-it-all, bushy haired witch asking him if he had seen a toad. Draco had nearly snapped at her because Longbottom had just been to their compartment asking the same question. But he simply shook his head and returned to his conversation with Crabbe and Goyle.

At the Sorting, Draco couldn't help but notice the know-it-all, bushy-haired girl was placed in Gryffindor. But this was mostly due to the fact that when she pushed by him to reach the hat, she was muttering spells under her breath.

Throughout his first year at Hogwarts, Draco worked hard. He wanted his father to be proud of his marks. But no matter how diligently he work, no matter how much time he spent on his studies, Draco always came second to Hermione Granger.

That was how he knew his father was wrong about Muggle-borns. Granger was wicked brilliant and she was a Muggle-born. So, his father had to be wrong.

Draco would never say he befriended her that year. He talked to her, trying to understand how she seemed to know everything. But he wouldn't say they were friends. More like friendly acquaintances. She refused to fully be his friend when she saw the way he treated Potter and Weasley. In his defense, at least he was more interested in Granger as a person than as someone to do his homework.

At Draco would never admit to being worried about her when he had heard she was in the Hospital Wing after the events that had transpired with the Sorcerer's Stone. And he definitely would not admit to the feelings of pride he felt when her intellect defeated the Professor's obstacles.

He would, however, happily complain about Dumbledore practically handing the House Cup to Gryffindor. Merlin forbid Slytherin to win when Potter's around.

* * *

Draco could very vividly remember seeing Hermione at Flourish and Blotts the summer before the second year at Hogwarts. Draco had, of course, mentioned to his father that the reason he did not receive the highest marks was because of the girl, Hermione Granger. For most of the first year he was able to deceive his father into believing Granger was related to the famous potion master who lived in Italy. His father was willing to allow his son to associate with half-blood, rather than a Muggle-born.

But Arthur Weasley was the one to destroy his clever deception.

His father was furious with him about it. Claiming that the _blood traitor _shouldn't be giving him information Draco should have supplied. Draco had, naturally, been even more irritated with the Weasleys after that. But he supposed he really couldn't blame Mr. Weasley. The man was boasting about a clever witch his son was friends with. Granger didn't ask to be Muggle-born, it wasn't a hindrance to her at all.

For some reason that Draco could not explain, he really hated watching Hermione's love struck face as she saw Lockhart for the first time. Honestly, he didn't think she could look at anything like that other than books. But he was glad that Granger was so preoccupied with Lockhart that she didn't hear the evil words his father was spouting about Purebloods and Muggle-borns. Surely, Potter and Weasley would tell her later, but he didn't have to see the look on her face when it was said at her. And that, at least, was enough.

It was their second year at Hogwarts that Draco and Hermione became friends. And, of all places, it started on the Hogwarts Express. He had seen her sitting alone as he was walking around the train by himself. Crabbe and Goyle were currently devouring everything that was on the trolley. It was rather disgusting, really.

Carefully, he opened the compartment door and asked Granger why she was sitting alone. "I can't seem to find Harry and Ron anywhere," she answered tightly. She didn't trust him. Any mutual understanding they had built over the year before was destroyed by the idiotic claims made by his father. He sighed.

"I don't agree with my father, Granger. Mr. Weasley was right to punch him," he said. He winced and added, "Don't tell Weasley I said that." She chuckled a little.

"He wouldn't believe it even if I did tell him," she stated truthfully. She gestured to the seat across from her. "W-would you like to sit down?"

And that was the start of it all. As it turned out, Potter and Weasley were late because of their insane need to make a memorable entrance. Draco thought it was completely barbaric that they would drive a Muggle car to Hogwarts. But, on some level, he was grateful to them, though. It was that conversation that sparked the friendship between Granger and Draco. They must have talked about everything and nothing for the whole ride. And Draco enjoyed every minute of it.

Draco found that Potter and Weasley were only willing to tolerate him because of his friendship with Granger. Of course, this didn't stop him from riling them up every chance he had. He wrote his father about purchasing Nimbus 2001s for the Slytherin team. With them, they were sure to win the Cup. Also, he thoroughly enjoyed the looks of envy the entire Gryffindor team had.

"You've only irritated them," Granger had said about it. "They're more determined than ever to beat you. Oliver's training Harry like mad." Draco just smirked.

"It's nothing but good competition," he told her.

"Well, if you ask me, Quidditch is just a waste of time. We should be paying more attention to our students than who can catch the Snitch."

"Granger," he said without a hint of mocking, "you just don't understand Quidditch. And it's me. I'll be the one to catch the Snitch."

He didn't catch the Snitch. And Gryffindor won again.

"Harry and Ron think you're the one who's Petrifying the students," Hermione told him after the news about Colin Creevey circulated the school. They were sitting in the library studying. Most of the time they spent together was studying. Draco guessed Hermione didn't have anyone else willing to spend time studying with her. He certainly didn't mind so much, he was able to complete his homework in a timely manner and they were never interrupted by her moronic friends.

"That's because Potter and Weasley have no imagination. They blame Professor Snape and me for every bad thing in their lives."

Granger scolded him for that, even if there was an element of truth to it. "They want to sneak into Slytherin and, under a guise, ask you about it." He glanced down at the book in her lap and smirked.

"Thinking about Polyjuice Potion?" She nodded gravely. "And here we all thought you liked to follow the rules, Granger. Wouldn't it be easier to just ask me?"

"Well...they don't think you'd tell _us_ to the truth…"

"What about you? Do you think I'll tell you the truth?" She hesitated a moment before nodding. "Good. Because I would tell _you_ the truth. Scarhead and the Weasel are right, though, I wouldn't tell them the truth." She told him for what seemed to be the thousandth time that he shouldn't call them those names. He never listen to her. He lowered his voice and glanced around the library to make sure that no one was listening to their conversation. "I'm not behind the attacks and Father won't tell me much about it. But he did say that the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a girl _died_."

Her eyes widened. "And they're after Muggle-borns?" _Enemies of the Heir Beware_, the wall had said.

"Nothing's going to happen to you," he promised. "The Professors will find out who is behind all of this and they'll be expelled." He changed the conversation back to their Transfiguration essay.

The worst day of Draco's second year at Hogwarts was the day Hermione Granger was found in the library Petrified. He never saw her as a Muggle-born, not really, until the moment the news went around the school. Of course, he visited her. He would bring his homework while he sat with her, telling her all that she was missing in class. "You better come back soon, Granger," he said once, "since you've been gone, it's fallen on me to answer all the questions in class. Slytherin's going to win the House Cup this year and all because of you." He knew she would have rolled her eyes at him if she could have heard him.

Potter would come in sometimes when he was there. He seemed just as much at a loss of what to do as Draco did. Neither would speak, just sit with Hermione as if she would know they were there. He could be civil to Potter for Hermione's sake.

Once, when he was putting his books away, preparing to return to the Slytherin Common Room, he turned to Potter. "You have to find whoever's doing this," he told Potter. "You have to stop them."

Potter did just that. And Draco would never admit the feelings of relief he had when the attacks stopped and the Petrified students were revived. He was one of the first to embrace Hermione when she was released from the Hospital Wing. "Missed you, Granger," he said with a teasing tone. "It's good you're back. You know how much I hate answering questions in class." And she did roll her eyes at that.

Of all the things that happened in the Chamber of Secrets, Draco was most thankful to Potter for ridding the school of that idiot, Gilderoy Lockhart. Perhaps they would have a competent professor the next year.

Draco ended the year the way he had started it. He sat with Hermione on the way back King Cross, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. And never once did Draco call Granger a "Mudblood."

* * *

Draco had heard stories of Sirius Black before. In all honesty, his parents didn't believe for a minute that _Sirius Black_ was responsible for the deaths of the Potters, much less the twelve other people he was convicted with. "He and that Potter were always running about the castle, causing mayhem," his mother explained when the article about Black's escape from Azkaban.

"He refused to follow the Dark Lord," added his father. "His brother did, though."

"You think he was innocent?" Draco inquired. His parents hesitated.

"It's not for us to say," his mother said. "I just find it hard to believe Sirius is responsible for the the Potters' deaths. They were awfully close, after all. He's the Potter boy's godfather, you know."

Regardless of whether or not Black _had_ committed the crimes he was accused of, the madman had escaped from Azkaban and was now headed towards Hogwarts. Everyone assumed he was coming to finish off Harry Potter in the name of the Dark Lord. And now everyone was in danger because Harry Potter existed. Again. Draco seriously wondered if he was going to ever have a normal year at Hogwarts.

In his never-ending quest to torment Potter, he attacked by a Hippogriff. The half-giant had to carry him to the Hospital Wing. Granger had no sympathy for him, claiming he was the one who provoked Buckbeak. "You don't have to be so mean all the time, Draco," she told him. She might have been right about that, but he was never going to admit that to her.

The school year did have one redeeming factor, though. Granger wasn't speaking with Potter and the Weasel. Originally, he had been outraged that Potter and Weasley would reject her friendship over something as trivial as having McGonagall look over Potter's Firebolt. He agreed with Granger, it could have been jinxed in some way, McGonagall needed to know about it. Eventually, though, he was rather thankful for their idiocy. Draco became Granger's only friend. She would even go out of her way to spend time with Draco when Potter and Weasley were around, just to annoy them. Draco quite enjoyed it.

But he really couldn't let it go on more than a few months. As much as he enjoyed spending nearly every moment with his friend, he was starting to be mocked by the other Slytherins. He had never been ashamed of his friendship with Granger, but the teasing was starting to get annoying. Pansy even went so far as to insinuate that he had feelings for the Muggle-born. He had to put an end to it.

And really, Granger was miserable with Potter and Weasley mad at her.

So, Draco promised to drop the case against Hagrid and Buckbeak if Potter and Weasley at least tried to forgive Granger. "What kind of friends are you?" he had spat at them, "letting something so stupid come between you and her? She puts up with a lot because of you two. You take her for granted."

To prove to Malfoy that Potter was a good friend, he forgave Hermione. But really, he was doing exactly what Draco had wanted in the first place. Besides, he could still be Granger's friend, even if he didn't see her all the time.

* * *

It was his fourth year at Hogwarts that Draco realized he was half in love with his Muggle-born friend. He could even pinpoint the exact moment. It was at the Quidditch World Cup. Granger was standing with her idiot friends. She had grown up a little since the end of the term. And even if her hair was a little bushy and her teeth were reminiscent of beavers. She utterly beautiful.

At first, he didn't know exactly what to do with this information. He seriously considered avoiding her completely. But that proved impossible when she invited him to study with her in the library. So, he decided to ignore the feelings until they disappeared.

That didn't work so well either. The more time he spent with her, the more he liked her. And when he was arguing with Potter, he really hadn't meant to send that spell at Hermione, causing her teeth to grow at unnatural lengths. Draco immediately took her to the Hospital Wing, apologizing profusely. She saw Madam Pomfrey alone, and Draco wanted for her the whole time. "It's alright," she finally told him. "Madam Pomfrey actually fixed my teeth. I don't think you and Harry should be arguing, but it kind of worked in the end, didn't it?" Her teeth _did_ look better.

When Skeeter's article about Harry and Hermione was published, Draco reacted rather irrationally. He was angry at her. As they sat in the library studying, he didn't bother answer her with anything but curt and short answers. She was frowning at him. "What's got your wand in a twist?" she demanded.

"Nothing, go back to your work, Granger."

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

"There's nothing wrong."

"Draco–"

"Are you and Potter really together?" he blurted out. He hadn't meant to. He was going to keep his disgusting jealousy to himself. She was speechless for a moment, like she was surprised that _this_ was what was bothering him.

"Of course not! We're just friends. Skeeter didn't say one true thing in that whole article!" Relief flooded through him at her words.

"She said you were stunningly pretty," he returned.

"So?"

"Well, she was right about that. So, she was right about _something_." Hermione blushed at his words and looked back at her essay. Draco rubbed the back of his head, wondering what had possessed him to actually _say_ that.

The minute the students were told about the Yule Ball, Draco knew immediately he was going to ask Hermione. It was perfect. At the end of the evening, he would tell her that he fancied her. He just had to think of the best way to ask her.

He did it with books. He purchased every book she had ever mentioned to him that she had wanted to read. Within each of them, he placed a piece of parchment asking her if she would go to the Yule Ball with them.

Draco was sitting beside her in the library when the owls arrived to drop the books in her lap. She was blushing the color of Weasley's hair and finally said, "Yes, I will go with you. But you really didn't need to go to all this trouble." He chuckled.

"Granger, Malfoys never do anything by half," he told her pointedly. "Though I may have to walk with back to Gryffindor Tower. You may break your back carrying so many books."

"Well, if you insist."

Draco had known that Hermione was beautiful. But he hadn't known until the Yule Ball that Granger was completely and utterly iridescent. No one could compare to her that night. And pride welled up inside of him when she entered the Great Hall with him, clinging to his arm and his alone.

He sat with her through dinner, more than willing to discuss their differing views of house-elf slavery. He even paid for one of her stupid buttons.

And when it came time for dancing, she laid her head on his shoulder in happy contentment. Excitement bubbled inside of him. "I fancy you, Granger," he stated as though it was a matter-of-fact. She chuckled softly.

"I know," she answered. Of course, she did. Granger knew everything. "I fancy you, too." He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face at her words. She fancied him, too.

It was late when he walked her back to Gryffindor Tower. Her hand was his entwined with his as they walked. Neither said anything. Outside of the Fat Lady's painting, Hermione hesitated, prolonging entering the Gryffindor Common Room. "I had a nice time tonight," she stated, she was blushing a little bit.

"Good," he said. "I did, too." He was nervous as he took a step forward and pressed his lips against hers. It took her only a half a second to return the kiss. "Merry Christmas, Granger," he whispered.

"Merry Christmas, Draco," she answered. And though it was a long, cold walk back to the Slytherin Common Room, Draco didn't notice it once.

The fourth year at Hogwarts ended in much of the same way. They would study together, snog a little, and study some more. He had officially called a truce on Potter and Weasley for Hermione's sake. He even helped Potter prepare for the Second and Final Tasks. (He really believed he deserved a medal for it. It took all of his self-control not to mock Pothead and the Weasel.)

And when Potter returned after the Final Task, claiming that the Dark Lord had returned, Draco believed him, knowing this was going to change everything.

* * *

Draco agreed with Hermione that they needed to rid the school of that vile toad-like woman. She was the absolute worst. He knew his father would have wanted him to respect the Ministry Official, but Draco was certain he didn't have the strength to do so when Umbridge gave that obnoxious half-cough.

"We need a proper teacher," Hermione told him one day when they were sitting in the library.

"I quite agree," Draco answered. "It is our duty to rid Hogwarts of her and her ridiculous rules." Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.

"This is about Educational Decree Twenty-Five again, isn't it?"

"She expects me to stop snogging you," he stated in outrage. "I can't stand for this." She tried to scold him for that. She took his hand for a moment as a serious expression past her face.

"W-what if we taught ourselves?" Draco could tell she had been thinking about this for some time, so he listen to her idea. He agreed that they would need to learn how to defend themselves, especially since the Dark Lord had returned.

As they walked back to Gryffindor Tower, Draco broke Educational Decree Twenty-Five just because he wanted to. Later, he was given detention for it. But he didn't care. It was worth it.

Draco knew his father would want him to follow Umbridge, but he didn't. He joined the D.A. because he agreed with Hermione. They needed to know how to defend themselves because the day would come when they would have to.

"I have an idea," Hermione said one day in February. She plopped down beside him in the library, a stack of books in her hands. Draco had grown accustomed to her walking around the school with a mountainous pile of books, and didn't think too much of it.

"That's nothing new for you, 'Mione," he muttered, his eyes still fixed on the essay before him.

"I know you asked me to go to Hogsmeade with you–" He looked up at her with a frown. Of course, he had asked her to go to Hogsmeade with him. She was his girlfriend and the Hogsmeade date coincided with Valentine's Day. He had already decided everything they were going to do. And it was very romantic, if he did say so himself. "–but I think I know how to help Harry."

"Granger, don't you dare cancel our plans for Potter," he told her sternly. A guilty look passed her face. Jealousy flooded him.

"I-I'm not _cancelling_ our plans," she tried to amend. "Just changing them a little."

"And, what, pray tell, is the oh so important reason that Potter has to ruin our plans? I understand that he would have died a thousand times before now without you, but honestly, can't he just let us be? Just for one day?"

"Draco, I-I understand that it's Valentine's Day, but honestly, this is the only day that we can do this. We just have to meet with Luna, Skeeter, and Harry for an-an hour at the most. And the rest of the day will be ours. I promise. And-and if it helps, Harry will be bringing his date along as well. It's just for a little while."

He wasn't happy about it at all, but he let it go. Perhaps, he wouldn't have been so upset if Hermione had simply told him _why_ she wanted to meet with such a myriad of people in Hogsmeade. If she had told him, he probably would have immediately informed her that she was the most brilliant woman to ever have lived. But it wasn't until they were sitting in the Three Broomsticks that Draco learned the real reason of the meeting. Skeeter was going to write a completely accurate article of what had happened the night of Cedric Diggory's death. The night that the Dark Lord had returned.

It also hadn't escaped Draco's notice that Potter hadn't brought Cho Chang along with him.

They walked around Hogsmeade after the meeting. They ventured to the Shrieking Shack viewing area. Draco never cared much for the place, it wasn't particularly appealing to the eye, but they were able to be alone there. "You're really very brilliant," Draco told her. He kissed her cheek. "You're brave," He kissed her forehead then. "And you're incredibly beautiful–"

"I don't know if I would–"

"I think your biggest flaw, 'Mione is that you don't see how amazing you are." He kissed her lips. "And I love you."

"I love you, too, Draco Malfoy." A smile played across his lips. Why was he ever jealous of Potter? Shaking these thoughts away, he snogged her properly, thankful that she had chosen him.

Of all the things they learned in the D.A., Draco had to admit his favorite was the Patronus. Truth be told, it did take him awhile to produce a corporeal Patronus, but he was able to pick it up sooner than most in the D.A. He was even able to do it before Hermione, something he really loved to tease her about.

His Patronus was a Phoenix. And he was extremely proud of it.

Draco went with Potter, Weasley, Hermione, and the rest to the Ministry of Magic when the time came for it. He wasn't sure if he agreed that Sirius Black was being held in the Department of Mysteries. But he went anyway and was surprised to see his father standing there, his wand raised against Potter.

And Draco had never been so ashamed of his father and the Malfoy name.

Draco didn't go home to the Manor after the incident at the Ministry. He knew what horrors would await him if he were to. He spoke to Dumbledore at Hermione's urging, and was placed under the protection of the Order. Word was sent to his mother if she wished to join him, as well. But she decided to stand by Lucius. He spent the summer with his Aunt Andromeda, a woman he had never met, her husband, and his cousin, Nymphadora Tonks. Every now and then, Andromeda mention she was proud of Draco for making his own choices and for standing up for what was right. Draco hoped that had done the right thing.

* * *

During sixth year, Draco agreed with Hermione that Potter was cheating in Potions class. It didn't matter that Draco was completely indifferent on the matter. If Potter was using the his _textbook_ to get ahead in the class, then Draco couldn't really speak against him about it. Potter was actually reading for once, this should have been something they were celebrating, as Draco was convinced that Potter couldn't read. And Potter was too much of a dolt to notice that the writing in the book was the same Snape had been using for the past six years they'd had him as a professor. Of course, these were things he would never tell Hermione.

He did take the time to explain what the Sectumsempra curse did, knowing that Potter didn't know. Hermione thought it was horrific.

They sat together in Potions that year. When Slughorn showed them the Amortentia, Draco couldn't help but smirkingly whisper in Hermione's ear, "What do you smell, Granger?" She turned a little pink.

"As if you don't know," she returned evenly. "What do you smell, Draco?"

"Oh, just old books, parchment, and vanilla. It's a heavenly scent." She blushed a little more and took a step away from him, trying to listen to Slughorn. Draco thoroughly enjoyed distracting her, even if she hated it.

The Gryffindors wrote an annoying tune that Quidditch season. It was nearly always stuck in his head and he wished desperately that it wasn't. He couldn't be seen humming the tune of "Weasley is Our King." What would people think?

As far as the years he had spent at Hogwarts were concerned, this had to be the most normal one by far. Sure, Draco was an outcast among the Slytherins for refusing the Dark Mark and dating a Muggle-born. But Draco didn't care. He had made his choice a long time ago and it would always be Hermione Granger. Always.

One Saturday morning, Draco got an idea. He wasn't sure why he had never thought of it before, probably because he knew that Hermione would have said "no." But the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to do it. "Meet me at the Quidditch pitch in twenty minutes," he told Hermione at breakfast. She was ignoring her meal for her books. She looked like she was going to protest, but conceded.

He arrived with his Nimbus 2001. She was frowning at him. "Draco, I really don't have time to watch you practice today," she stated. He raised an eyebrow, she never complained before. "I'm _not_ practicing today, love. You're going to go flying with me." She stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. "I'm serious."

"Draco, you know how I feel about heights! I'd much rather watch you practice."

"You're always the one saying I need to face my fears, right? Well, this is me, making you face your fears. Come on." She didn't move a muscle. She completely terrified at the thought. Draco decided he liked seeing her like this. Maybe not terrified, but he liked a seeing a break in her know-it-all demeanor. It made her somehow more human. He walked over to where she was standing with her arms folded across her chest as though she were cowering into herself. "I won't let you fall, I promise." Still, she said nothing. "Trust me."

"I do trust you," she said automatically, like she was offended at the thought of anything else. He mounted the broom and hesitantly, she climbed on in behind of him. "Don't go very high," she ordered him.

Chuckling, he did as she asked, at first. When she had calmed down a bit and slightly more confident, Draco sped up and climbed higher into the air. "Draco!" she screamed as the zoomed around the Quidditch pitch, towards the Forbidden Forest. She clinging to him. Her arms were wrapped completely around him and her head was huddled to his shoulder.

He did slow down a little bit then. "Look around, love," he told her softly. She didn't say so, but he knew she found the Scottish countryside as beautiful as it was. Even if she was seeing it because of a broom.

He made a wide circle back to the Quidditch pitch. Her hold on him had lessened a little. They slowly descended until they reached the ground. Immediately, she jumped off the broom. "I can't believe you made me do that," she stated. But there was no anger in her voice. Draco smirked.

"Admit it, you enjoyed it."

"I..may have enjoyed..._parts_ of it." When she saw his cocky smirk, she added, "I told you not to go too high or too fast!" Draco chuckled a little. This only infuriated her more. "And it's still not very safe–" He interrupted her coming monologue with a kiss.

"Merlin, I love you," he said with a genuine smile.

"And here I thought you loved me, not Merlin," she joked. He shook his head and grabbed her hand. Together they started walking towards the castle.

"Granger, I will only ever want you," he said, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "And I can guarantee that I don't love a two thousand year old dead wizard."

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said nothing. Her eyes were trained on the ground as they walked. Draco could see there was something bothering her, and it had little to do with the flying they had just done. He stopped and tilted her chin to look up at him. He could see clearly every worry that was pressing on her mind.

"We're going to be alright," he promised. Tears were beginning to well in her eyes. How often had she been thinking about this without telling him? "We're going to get through this. I reckon Potter's going to do something disgustingly heroic and save us all. Probably at the end of the school year, as that seems to be a recurring pattern in our lives." She didn't even bother to smile at his joke.

"You don't know that," she said quietly. "I-I'm scared. You can't even go to bed without placing protection charms around you because of the other Slytherins." He knew he shouldn't have told her about that. "The Death Eaters are going to be after you because of me."

"They'll be after me because of me, love," he corrected. "Because I made a choice they didn't agree with."

"Because of me."

"Hermione," he said heavily, dropping his broom to hold her hand in both of his, "I'm not afraid. We're going to live through this, I know it. You and me. I'll go into Healer training and you'll...finally decide what you want to do." She smiled a little. He had told her once she was being deliberately stubborn when it came to her future occupation. "And then we'll get married and have a house full of little half-bloods."

She was quiet for a moment, drinking in his words. He had never admitted to her before what he saw in their future. And he didn't fail to notice the hint of a blush creeping up on her face. He really did love making her blush. "Do you think about this often?" He shrugged.

"Every now and then," he answered truthfully.

"A _house_ full?" she repeated.

"Alright, maybe not a house full," he shuddered to think how many kids it would take to fill the Manor. "But at least two."

"I'd like that," she told him sincerely. He smiled broadly. He bent down to retrieve his broom. They began walking back to the castle, Draco's arm laying across Hermione's shoulders.

"That's good," he replied. "It'd be a very hard marriage otherwise." She just rolled her eyes in exasperation.

In all honesty, Draco was glad that Slughorn left him alone throughout the school year. He had heard about the Slug Club dinners from Potter and Hermione. Really, it sounded dreadful. He was glad that he hadn't been "collected." He also found that he missed Snape as the Potions Professor. He was much better at that post than Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Of course, that didn't stop him from going with Hermione to the Christmas Party. They had a pleasant time, left early to walk around the castle together. "I'm not certain I liked Slughorn fawning over us. I certainly didn't need to hear about his days in Hogwarts. I really don't think he was as...popular as he wants us to believe." Hermione only laughed.

"He's happy for us."

"Did you notice the way McLaggen was staring at you? I admit you were the most beautiful woman there, but I don't want anyone else noticing that."

"Thank you?" she murmured, frowning, unsure how to take that. He pulled her up to the Astronomy Tower with him, carefully placing his jacket across her shoulders. He kissed her cheek and leaned against the railing, looking up at the sky.

She wove her arm around his, laying her head on his shoulder. "I did mention that you look stunning, right?" She chuckled.

"Only about a dozen times."

"So not enough, then? You look exquisite."

"Thank you, Draco." She kissed him softly.

Draco was extremely nervous the next day. Hermione had invited him to spend Christmas with her and her family. He had never spent much time interacting with Muggles, much less the Muggle parents of his girlfriend. He had met them a few times before, but it was just in passing. Now, he was going to spend two weeks with them.

"You don't need to be so worried," she stated on the Hogwarts Express. That statement did nothing. Hermione barely even glanced up at him, still consumed in her book. Potter and Weasley were laughing at him. He really _was_ trying to calm down, but he couldn't seem to stop his foot from tapping unconsciously. Perhaps this had been a bad idea.

The two weeks few by before Draco knew it. Hermione's parents were kind and welcoming. He could see how important she was to them, and how important they were to her. He learned a lot about the Muggle world and was finally given a description on what a dentist was. One night, after Hermione had gone to bed, Mr. Granger took it upon himself to threaten Draco's life, should he ever hurt Hermione. He supposed that was sensible enough.

After Christmas, things seemed to get worse at Hogwarts. Draco did have a slight worry about what would happen when news spread about known Death Eaters escaping Azkaban, his father among them. He also noticed his godfather's worried and paled expressions. He was worried, too. He knew Snape had a foot on both sides of the war, he just wasn't sure which held true loyalty.

"Hermione," he said quietly one day. They were sitting by the lake, enjoying the spring breeze. "What are you planning, really?" She had been uncharacteristically quiet since that morning, when she saw the article about the Muggle-borns' family being attacked.

"I-I think I need to send my parents away, to protect them," she answered honestly. There were tears pooling in her eyes. "I've told them so much about Harry. I-I think I'm going to have obliviate their memories."

He was frowning, unsure he understood her intended meaning. "How far back would you go?"

"Seventeen years," she answered. "I would erase all their memories of me." He pulled her close to himself as she cried, his hands running absentmindedly through her hair. He knew better than to try and talk her out of it. She was going to do what she thought was best. And, she wouldn't have told him if she thought there was a possibility of another option.

"Let me be there," he said quietly, once her tears had begun to subside. "You don't have to do this alone. I'll go with you." She looked up at him through her tears and nodded.

"Thank you, Draco. I don't deserve you." He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the statement. _He_ didn't deserve _her_. Instead, he just held her close and stared out at the lake.

Draco was surprised when the Death Eaters entered the castle. Thankfully, the Order of the Phoenix had been alerted in time and no one was seriously injured. Of course, Bill Weasley was placed in Hospital Wing, after being attacked by Fenrir, but he was going to alright. Nothing too serious.

Dumbledore was dead and Potter was saying it was Snape's fault. Apparently, his godfather had been working all year on fixing the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Hidden Things. He had let in the Death Eaters, including his father and his Bellatrix Lestrange. Lucius Malfoy was supposed to be the one to kill Dumbledore. But, he hesitated. Potter told him that Dumbledore had started talking about Draco, how if Lucius didn't kill him, turned against the Dark Lord, he would be redeemed in Draco's eyes. He had been seriously considering it, apparently. That was, until Snape arrived.

And Snape killed Professor Dumbledore.

Draco supposed to finally knew what side his godfather had chosen.

At the end of the term, Draco returned to the Tonks' home. He was there long enough to even attend the wedding between Tonks and Remus Lupin. Draco wasn't sure he had ever seen so much joy on a person's face as he did when Nymphadora Tonks married Professor Lupin. He was happy for them and he truly wished all the best for them.

A few days following the wedding, Draco Apparated to Hermione's home. He stood beside her as she obliviated her parents, wiping all memory of her away. For a while, Draco wondered how obliviating a person's memory was protection. But he did understand now. She was saving their lives, regardless of the pain that it did to her. Draco wondered if he could ever be that brave.

* * *

The final year at Hogwarts was not spent at Hogwarts. It started with helping the Order move Harry from his home in Little Whinging to the Burrow. He honestly felt he deserved a medal for that as well, as he putting his life on the line for someone he didn't even like. He could even begin to describe the happiness he had when Hermione came running up to him, throwing her arms around him, when he returned with Mad-Eye. She kissed him soundly in front of everyone. "I was so worried," she told him quietly.

"It's all okay," he stated, placing a kiss on her cheek. "We're all fine."

In the days following, Draco explained to Potter that he was inviting himself on whatever mission Dumbledore had given to them. Hermione had been very vague about it, stating that she would not be returning to Hogwarts, along with Ron and Harry. She wouldn't explain what they were doing, as it was apparently not her place. But he was worried about her. There was no protection for Muggle-borns. As it was, Draco himself could not return to school, having been the prey to all Death Eaters. He had run from his familial responsibility. He knew that Voldemort would not be forgiving about it.

But for some reason, Potter was refusing. "You'll be put in a lot of danger–"

"Stop there, Potter," Draco spat at him in annoyance and anger. "I understand that you have some insane need to keep everyone safe, but you can remove me from that list, got it? I can't go back to Hogwarts and I'm not staying in some protected house will you, Hermione, and the Weasel are gallivanting through England. You're going to tell me what you're doing and how I can help. I'm going with you. Got it?"

Potter protested some more, until Draco finally admitted that he was worried about Hermione and that he wanted to be there to protect her. He really just couldn't stand the idea of her being with _Potter_ instead of him. He would have gone crazy if he had to deal with that.

Hermione, Potter, and Weasley kindly explained to Draco about the Horcruxes. Or, rather, Hermione was kind about it. Potter and Weasley were reluctant.

Draco, naturally, had been invited to the wedding between Bill Weasley and the french woman from the Triwizard Tournament. He thought a wedding was an odd thing to have in the middle of the war, but Hermione reminded him that because of the war people tended to live as though there wouldn't be a tomorrow. She told him it was important to cease opportunities. He nodded, but said nothing.

The wedding was simple, but nice. Draco sat beside Hermione, his arm laying across her shoulders while his other hand drew lazy circles on her hand. Every now and then, he would turn and kiss the side of her cheek. "Pay attention," she whispered to him after the third time he did it. The ceremony part was so dreadfully boring. And Hermione was so...perfectly beautiful. Draco spent much of the time thinking about his own wedding, what it would be like to see Hermione walking down in a dress like Fleur's. He kept those thoughts to himself, though.

They spent the reception dancing together. She kept going over in her mind what they were going to need for the next few months. Draco found that irritating. Here he was trying to have a nice, romantic dance with his stunning girlfriend, and all she could talk about was if she had packed enough of Potter's and Weasley's underwear. "Love," he said calmly, "let's talk about something else–"–_anything else– "_–if we're going to forget the war for a few minutes. Then, let's forget the war for a few minutes." She nodded.

"You're right. We should enjoy the happy times because we aren't sure how many more moments like this we're going to have."

"Oh, we're going to have many, many moments like this. We just have to get rid of a Dark Lord first." She paused for a moment, thinking.

"I'm going to hold you to that promise."

"Good, because I plan on making it happen."

All too soon, the night ended. The Ministry had been taken by Voldemort and Draco, Hermione, Potter, and Weasley were forced to flee.

It wasn't so bad. After entering the Ministry of Magic, they were forced to start camping. They also had to take turns carrying the Horcrux, that was the worst. The stupid thing made Draco think about how he abandoned his family for _Muggle-born_ and how he would never in a million years be good enough for Hermione Granger. It even made him jealous of Potter all over again. During these times, Hermione would sit with him and breathe truth against the lies. He did the same for her.

The locket was the worst for Weasley. And one day, after a fight with Potter, he left.

He had told Hermione and Potter that going to Godric's Hollow would be a bad idea. The Dark Lord was not idiotic enough to hide a Horcrux there. And he couldn't see how the Sword of Gryffindor would appear there. He honestly believed that Snape still had it. They knew the Sword was in the Lestrange's vault was fake and Snape was the one to give it to Bellatrix. So, Snape had to have the Sword.

But they didn't listen. And Potter lost his wand because of it.

Eventually, Weasley made his way back to them. It wasn't until he saw the redhead that he realized how much Hermione had missed her friend.

Draco would forever blame Potter for how they were brought to Malfoy Manor. Everything had been fine until bloody Potter said Voldemort's name, even they knew about the jinx on it. Snatcher completely surrounded them and they brought to the place he had been brought up.

He could see the conflicted looks on his parents' faces when they arrived. His parents didn't want to send him to the wrath of the Dark Lord. He supposed that meant they were able to do something right. It because they recognized him and Hermione that they were able to identify Potter rather quickly. His father was about to call for the Dark Lord when Bellatrix appeared.

Her eyes fell on the Sword of Gryffindor, demanding to know how they got it. No one said a word. "Take Potter and the ginger to the cellar," she ordered. "I think a conversation between us is long overdue, don't you Draco?" He didn't like the way she was pulling at Hermione. And like a flood he knew what was coming.

Bellatrix was going to torture Hermione to force the information from Draco. As Bellatrix spoke, she walked around, twirling her wand between her fingers. "We've been hearing, Draco, rumors that you've been seeing this Mudblood–"

"Don't call her that," he spat at his aunt, his eyes still trained on Hermione, silently telling her to be brave.

"You know how we feel about blood traitors, Draco," continued his aunt as though he hadn't seen anything. "Your parents haven't done a good enough job teaching you this, but I'll set you right. All we have to do is get rid of the distraction." She turned to Hermione suddenly, raising her wand to scream, "_Crucio!"_

Hermione screamed out against the pain. Draco couldn't stand it. "Stop!" he shouted to his aunt. "Let her go!" But Bellatrix just smiled viciously at him.

"Tell me who's been in my vaults," she ordered.

"No one has been!" he refuted. But this reply wasn't good enough for Lestrange. She pointed her wand back at Hermione. Hermione screamed out again, tears rolling down her eyes. Draco tried to rush at his aunt, but was held back by his father. He struggled against the arms. "STOP PLEASE! LET HER GO! Please, take me instead!"

Bellatrix's deranged laughter echoed across the room. "Then stop lying, Draco. _Who has been in my vaults? _Was it Potter? Granger? Who?"

"No one!" he shouted truthfully. "No one's been in the vaults! The swords a fake! Please, please let her go." He struggled against his father's arms again. Bellatrix didn't buy his lie for one moment. How could he explain that Potter found the sword in the middle of a lake? He had to protect Potter's mission, he knew that. But he wanted to stop the pain that Hermione was enduring.

"What else was taken?" she demanded.

"Nothing! No one has been–"

"_Crucio!"_

Hermione screeched out again. Draco wanted it to stop, it wanted it all to stop. Tears started flowing from his eyes as he was forced to watch Hermione tremor in pain. "Please," Draco begged. "We haven't taken anything! We've been in the country all this time! Please, let her go, it's a copy nothing more!"

Bellatrix told Wormtail to retrieve the goblin in the cellar. In the meantime, she turned back to Draco. "I think it's time you learned how _worthless_ and filthy Mudbloods are. And remember Draco, this is all because of you." She cackled again before lifting her wand to Hermione. "_Imperio._" Hermione stood up, according to Bellatrix's command. Draco hated the look of contentment that passed Hermione's face. "I think I'll bring you that treat you wanted, Greyback." Hermione walked towards Fenrir Greyback and leaned her neck back. Draco struggled against his father's arms, knowing that Greyback would do to her.

Draco stomped down on his father's foot, and elbowed him in the groin. Lucius' hold slackened a little and Draco was able to free himself. He ran over to where Hermione was standing in front of Greyback. He pulled her away from the werewolf, strategically placing himself between her and Greyback.

"Have some fun, Draco," cackled Bellatrix. "I was going to let him have her regardless. I just needed information first."

"Please, do what you will to me, just please let her go."

"Bella–" started his mother.

"And spill Pureblood?" Bellatrix continued, blatantly ignoring Narcissa, "She deserves to die, she's nothing more than a Mudblood."

"You're wrong!"

At that moment, Wormtail appeared with the goblin. While Bellatrix interrogated the creature, she cancelled the curse she had on Hermione. She fell in Draco's arms, having a hard time keeping her eyes open. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he told her quietly. "I'm so, so sorry. This is all my fault."

She was trying to shake her head, but was having a hard time, the after effects of the Cruciatus Curse. "I...love...you…" she finally got out.

"I love you, too," he told her. "I love you so much."

"You're sure it's a fake? Quite sure?" Bellatrix was saying.

"Yes, it is a fake," lied the goblin.

"You and me," Draco whispered to Hermione. "Always, remember? We're going to be okay. Harry'll come save us. He always does." He wished his voice wasn't breaking like it was. He was terrified. He didn't think Potter was coming this time.

"Good," Bellatrix said. "Now, we'll call the Dark Lord." She pulled back her sleeve and pressed her forefingers to the Dark Mark.

"Love...you," Hermione said again, as though she was worried Draco hadn't heard her before.

"We're not having goodbyes," he told her. "We're going to be fine. We always are."

"_Crucio!" _This time the curse did hit Draco. He let go of Hermione and cowered into himself, screaming against the pain.

"Draco!" Hermione shouted in a panic.

"Bellatrix stop this!" Draco heard his mother say. But as usual, Bellatrix was doing what she wanted to.

"You see Draco," continued Bellatrix, walking towards Hermione. "Purebloods and Mudbloods aren't the same thing. Mudbloods are just that. Mud. Filthy and deserve to die. She was never worth you. _Avada Kedavra!" _

Draco was sure his heart had stopped as a green light flashed, hitting Hermione squarely in the chest. No. No, it had to be wrong. She couldn't be dead. Not his Hermione. He crawled over to her in shock. Her eyes were staring up at him lifelessly. "Hermione," he begged. "Please, no. Please. 'Mione!" He shook her shoulder silently. She reminded him briefly of the way she looked when she was Petrified.

But now, he had no hope of her ever recovering.

He huddled her against himself and let the tears fall from his eyes. She was gone. She was gone forever. He cried into her shoulder, as though his tears would be enough to bring her back.

He wasn't sure when he looked up to find he was no longer in Malfoy Manor. Dobby, the house-elf they had once had, was staring at him with large eyes. Potter was on the ground, tears falling down his face freely. Weasley was staring at them in shock.

Bill Weasley was standing above him, offering something. He wasn't sure. All he knew was that Bill wanted to take Hermione away from him. But someone had already done that. Her body was all that was left and he refused to have that taken away from him too.

"Draco," Potter finally said, "he wants to bury her. Properly." Draco nodded and lifted the lifeless body to Bill.

They had given him time to speak at the funeral, and he really wanted to, there was so much about Hermione that he could say. But the words seemed to have been lodged somewhere in his throat, unable to be spoken against his sobs.

He didn't go with Potter and Weasley to Gringotts. He knew there was still a war to fight, but he could bring himself to want to leave the bed given to him at the Shell Cottage. He rarely ate. He never slept. He just seemed to stop.

Bill nearly dragged him along when the Battle of Hogwarts began. "Don't let her die for nothing," he had said. "There's still a battle to be fought. Then you can mourn her."

And so he did.

* * *

It took him exactly five years after the war to finish it. Following the final battle, Draco applied to be an Unspeakable, working in the Department of Mysteries. Potter spoke for him, telling everyone who would listen that Draco had helped him defeat Voldemort. Draco was a hero. But he didn't want to be a hero. He would have gladly given that position to anyone else, if only to have Hermione back. He would have given anything to have Hermione back.

He didn't bother going to Australia to retrieve Hermione's parents. They were happy the way they were, they shouldn't have to bear the pain he did every single day without her. And, he didn't think he could look in Mr. Granger's eyes and explain that he had failed. Hermione _had _been hurt because of him.

He thought about it most days, the way that Hermione was killed because Draco loved her.

Five years following the war, Draco finally perfected the Time Turner. Well, it wasn't _exactly_ a Time Turner. Those had all been destroyed during the incident at the Ministry of Magic his fifth year at Hogwarts. No, this was something of his own design. It would allow him to go back in time, but only his mind. He would be transported to his own body with the knowledge of the future.

And he knew just how he was going to use it. He had been planning this moment for five years. Because he had to fix everything. He had made a promise to protect Hermione and give her all the happy moments the war stole from him. So, he was going to do just that.

He didn't say "goodbye" to anyone, knowing he was going to see them again soon. But, he did stop by Potter's house. Just to thank him for the friend that he had been since Hermione's death. Granted, he had never used the word "friend" to describe their relationship before and Potter looked as though Draco had gone insane.

But he needed to say, just once. Because he and Potter could never be friends. Never again.

Draco stood in his flat and turned the dial on the Time Turner. He knew bad things happened to wizards who meddle with time, but Draco didn't care. Everything bad had already happened to him, so only good things could happen now.


	3. Part 3: The End

Draco was sitting on the Hogwarts Express in a compartment with Crabbe and Goyle when a strange, bushy-haired, know-it-all girl entered. Draco wished desperately jumped up and embrace her, tell her that he loved her. But he didn't. He schooled his face into looking indifferent, if not superior, to the girl.

"Sorry to disturb you," she said. "I was wondering if any of you have seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost one." Draco sneered at her.

"_Like_ we told Longbottom," he said with disdain, "we haven't seen the toad." Her mouth dropped open in surprise before she hastily exited the compartment. Draco glanced out the window. He hated being mean to her, but he knew he had to.

If she hated him. She would never die because of him.

All throughout his second first year, Draco refrained from doing his work too fast or excelling too much in class. He needed the world to see that Hermione Granger was more brilliant than he could ever be. If he couldn't state that Muggle-borns were smart, perhaps he could show the world instead. And he was happy to be second best to Hermione Granger.

* * *

During second year, he called her a "Mudblood" for the first time in his life. He hated the word. It was despicable. But he forced himself to say it and was happy awarded with watching Weasley throw up slugs.

When the sign appeared on the wall stating _Enemies of the Heir Beware_, he turned to Hermione and said that Mudbloods would be next. He knew to sneer afterwards, but he had been hoping she would take it as a warning. He wasn't sure he could stare at her lifeless body again.

He knew it was Potter and Weasley he was talking to almost instantly. Even Crabbe and Goyle weren't thick enough to forget where the Slytherin Common Room was. He gave them the information he knew they would need happily. (Making sure to insult Potter as much as he could while he did.)

While Potter and Weasley were off gallivanting around the Chamber of Secrets, Draco snuck out to the Hospital Wing to sit with Hermione for a few minutes. She would never know he was there or why he was. He was content just to sit there with her for a few minutes.

Draco ended the school year with the second best marks of their year. And even though his father was disappointed, he didn't mind. Not one bit. He could do this for Hermione.

* * *

Third year was hard a second time. The dementors on the train went straight to the pain he had felt after Hermione died. He was barely able to stand upright, but at least he hadn't fainted like Potter. Naturally, he mocked Potter about it as they walked out to the carriages. Draco looked sadly at the thestral, creatures he had always found to be interesting, and climbed into the carriage. Luna Lovegood was looking at him curiously from two carriages away.

Draco was glad that Lupin didn't give him a chance to fight the boggart. Originally, Lupin had told him it was because he had wanted the whole class to see his father telling him he was worthless, something Draco was grateful for. (And something he concerned the Lupin knew.) Now, though, he was glad he didn't fight the boggart because the entire class would have seen Hermione Granger dying. And he couldn't afford to explain that. Not in the least.

He missed Hermione when he started seeing her sit alone in the Great Hall. She was worried and tired over her exorbitant amount of classes she was taking. Potter and Weasley had stopped talking to her, like before. But Draco couldn't be there for her. And he hated it.

During the second term, Hermione punched him. He was shocked. Completely and utterly shocked that she had actually done it. He really had been asking for it all year, but he was surprised to have it actually happened. As he walked away from her, he was reminded of the deep love that he had for her.

* * *

There were surprises waiting for Draco during fourth year. For instance, Professor Moody (Barty Crouch Jr.) turned him into a bouncing ferret, something that he had not been expecting in the least. He also, when arguing with Potter, aimed his wand at Hermione on purpose, knowing that she would be a little thankful that her teeth were a normal size afterwards.

But more than anything he had to watch _Viktor Krum_ flirt with _his_ woman. He knew that he had no claim on her–and she would hate to be thought of as a possession anyway– but he just couldn't stand it. His jealous flared even more when he watched the Bulgarian escort her to the Yule Ball.

The entire night, he had to see her talking with him, dancing with him, all the while reminiscing the night had taken her to the Yule Ball. The night he had kissed her for the first time. He had made his choice, he knew, but he still hated watching Krum twirl Granger around.

In February, Draco stared at the lake in turmoil, waiting for Hermione to appear. She hadn't been placed in the lake last time because she Draco's. But now, he watched with worry, hoping that someone would make Krum pay for this.

Draco couldn't comfort Hermione they he had after Cedric's death. He could only sneer and hope that everyone believed he despised her.

* * *

It was not until he saw Umbridge that Draco realized he was going to have to appear to respect the woman. He could spout his father's ideals, that she was a Ministry worker and would probably replace Dumbledore (thank Merlin that didn't happen.) Umbridge felt it was her duty to raise Draco into a good, non-thinking Ministry worker.

Umbridge had mentioned that she wanted a reason to remove Potter from the Quidditch team one day. Draco thought this was a good time to rewrite "Weasley is Our King," which still popped up into his head every now and then. Merlin, he hated that song. It didn't take very long to write and he was more than happy to put it to use at the Quidditch match.

For good measure, he provoked Potter and the Weasleys. Umbridge happily used this opportunity to remove Potter _and_ the Weasley twins from the team. Draco wasn't happy that he had done it. But it was necessary. This was all necessary. He refused to lose Hermione again. She wasn't going to die because he loved her.

He spent Valentine's Day alone, in the place he had told her that he loved her for the first time.

He didn't go to the Ministry with them that year. And he didn't go live with Andromeda for the summer. Instead, he returned to Malfoy Manor, where Voldemort was waiting to give him the Dark Mark.

* * *

Draco spent sixth year in pain. He hated that he had done this. He _hated_ that he had the Dark Mark on his arm now. Honestly, he knew he should have been more afraid, having a madman carve his mark into his skin. But this was just proof that Granger would never love him. That his plan was working. She couldn't love him and he couldn't love her. Still, he wasn't taking this task lightly.

He could still smell old books, parchment, and vanilla when Slughorn showed them the Amortentia potion. He supposed that would never truly change.

The biggest frustration he had, though, was watching the Weasel hurt Hermione. Honestly, he didn't think there would be a world where he could wish that Hermione be with Harry Potter. He had never truly believed her when she had told him numerous times that she didn't care for Harry other than as a brother. And now he was seeing it with his own eyes. She liked Weasley.

He saw her sitting and crying over _Weasley_ after the Quidditch match. He hated that he had made her cry.

He hadn't meant to poison Weasley, honestly. It just happened. He had been trying to make it obvious to Potter than he was a Death Eater, hoping that it would be brought to Dumbledore's attention. Perhaps, if he was caught and forced to end all of this, he wouldn't have to go through with it. Apparently, Potter was more oblivious to things than the thought. Still, though an accident, he was glad that Weasley was being punished for hurting Hermione.

Potter nearly killed him with the Sectumsempra curse. Draco had forgotten that without his explanation, Potter didn't know what it was. Potter looked just as startled as Draco felt when it happened. Guilt and regret swirled in his eyes. Draco knew he would be blaming himself for this for a long time. But Draco didn't care. Snape was there to fix it all, and that was good enough.

Still, he couldn't kill Dumbledore, even when he had the chance to. He just couldn't do it. He lowered his wand like his father had.

* * *

Draco couldn't help but think about Hermione obliviating her parents by herself. She was so much stronger than he was or could ever be. This time, though, her parents would return from Australia. They had to.

He returned to Hogwarts that fall. For the first time in his life, he saw first hand the atrocities that the students underwent under the Carrows. For a while, he had thought Longbottom and Finnegan were exaggerating. But it was terrible, certainly better when Umbridge was in charge. He did his best to lessen the pain of his Cruciatus Curse when he was forced to administrator it.

Draco listened to _Potterwatch_ every week. He remembered the nights he spent on the run, the torture that wearing that Horcruxes was. He wondered how Hermione was faring when Ron left. He wondered about all three of them quite often.

He was dreading Easter more than anything else. And it came too soon. Much too soon. He forced himself to stay in the room while Potter, Hermione, and Weasley entered. "Is it him, Draco?" his father excitedly. "Is it Potter?" Yes, it was. But he refrained from saying so. He tried not to look at Potter, keeping his eyes trained in his feet instead.

Draco glanced at Hermione. This was it. This was the moment that everything was going to change. Hermione was going to live through this night. He was going to make sure of it.

Draco forced himself to watch as Bellatrix torture Hermione. He hated it, he knew her screams out forever echo across his nightmares. It was as awful as that last night with her. But he forced himself to watch. Hermione was not going to die tonight because of his love for her. And she wouldn't die because of hers for him. Through her screams, she looked back at Draco, silently pleading him to help her. But he did nothing. He couldn't do anything. He had to protect her.

Hermione disappeared with Potter, Dobby, and Weasley. And Draco knew that all his work had not been in vain.

* * *

Following the war, Draco pushed thoughts of Hermione Granger from his mind. He finally went on to become the Healer he had wanted to be. He married Astoria Greengrass and lived a good life. He would notice Granger–_Granger-Weasley _he had to remind himself– from time to time. He knew she was happy and loved and that was enough for him.

He saw Mr. Granger walking down the street one day with his wife. He hesitated for a moment, deciding what to do. They walked passed him and stopped into a Muggle bookshop. He wished he could tell them that he had kept his promise. He had done everything in his power to make certain that Hermione was protected and cared for. Even if it meant that he couldn't be with her. Draco shook these thoughts from his mind and returned on his way. He would never be able to explain aloud this sentiment.

The day his son was born was the happiest day of his life. Scorpius was perfect, completely perfect. Astoria told him afterwards that if he wanted another child, he was going to have to carry it himself. He had just smiled. He enjoyed her company and had humor. And they had a lovely little family.

The day Scorpius left for Hogwarts was a point of pride for Draco. He hoped his son would have as good a time as he did. He saw Potter standing with the Weasley girl and their children. Draco nodded to him, recalling the friendship he had forged with Potter the first time around. Potter nodded back, destroying any and all petty arguments they had once had. Draco was glad for it.

Hermione stood with her son and daughter, checking for what was probably the thousandth time if Rose had remembered everything. Weasley was glancing at him, probably telling his daughter to beat Scorpius at every test, at everything really.

"You'll have a good term," Draco told his son. Scorpius was seemingly reluctant to go. "We'll see you at Christmas and you'll be able to tell us all about it."

"You'll write?" Scorpius murmured.

"Of course we'll write," Astoria said fondly. "You better get on the train." He hugged them both again before rushing to the train. He would be alright, Draco knew. He was scared now, but he had the whole world of adventure ahead of him. "It'll be lonely with just the two of us."

"I've told you before, any time you want to remedy that, just let me know," he answered with a wink. He held her hand as they walked along the platform, waving their son off as the train sped away.

"I think we need the silence for a little while," Astoria told him, ignoring his comment.

"Yes, dear."

That evening, to celebrate their son starting Hogwarts, Draco too his wife out to dinner at a new restaurant that had opened in Diagon Alley. The place was elegant and they were seated by a rather large window. They were only there for a few minutes before Granger and Weasley entered, taking the table closest to them.

Draco tried to focus all his attention on his wife, and he was doing pretty before she disappeared to use the restroom. Ironically, the Weasel also decided to disappear at that moment. Draco could feel the tension hanging in the air over them. Finally, he turned to her and said, "I read your proposal for implementing a minimum wage for house-elves." She was staring at him like he was growing another head. "I have a friend who works in the Ministry, thought I would be interested to see it."

Granger pursed her lips. "Do you can tell me that my idea is wrong, idiotic, worthless?" Draco frowned.

"Of course not. I thought it was very interesting."

"It's just not something I would think would interest you, Malfoy."

"Certainly it does," he told her. "I pay all my house-elves. There are few willing to do the same."

She was staring at him with a shocked expression. Draco smirked at her, reveling in her sudden inability to speak. Astoria returned then, drawing his attention away from Granger.

Astoria went to bed almost immediately upon entering he Manor. Draco didn't follow her immediately. It was true that he loved Astoria and that he was happy. But he in the quiet moments, when there was no one around, he allowed himself to miss Granger, _his_ Hermione. And in these moments, he would allow himself one memory before he returned to reality.

Today, he recalled the Yule Ball, the first time he had ever told her that he fancied her. She laid her head against his chest and swayed slowly to the music. "I fancy you, too," she whispered.

Draco sighed and took out his wand. "Expecto Patronum," he muttered. An otter swam from the tip of his wand and danced across the room. It didn't matter how much time passed, Draco knew, his heart would always belong to Hermione Granger.


End file.
